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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675393">Dead To Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blairwiitches/pseuds/blairwiitches'>blairwiitches</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series - Jeff Kinney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, OC/Canon Character, Underage Drinking, mentions of depression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:06:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blairwiitches/pseuds/blairwiitches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s true what they say. One summer can change everything. And for Rodrick Heffley and Maya Foster, it just so happens that the summer after their final year of high school is the that exact one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rodrick Heffley/Maya Foster (OC), Rodrick Heffley/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Downfalls.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Honestly, Rodrick's been my number one since I was eleven. My punk, emo, goth bf I love you. I hope you're having a good day :*</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          “<em> It’s over </em>.”</p><p>          Was a phrase Rodrick Heffley has never prepared himself to hear. He had expected it, but he had the smallest glimmer of hope. And Chris had smothered it as if it were nothing. As if it had been an ant. One phrase, and the eldest Heffley child’s dreams had been shattered and buried six feet under.</p><p>           “<em> Over </em>?” The brunette questioned, his drumsticks still in hand as he ran a hand through his knotted hair. “What do you mean?” Frowning, he looked over at his two band mates who were standing in the garage doorway, arms crossed over their chest.</p><p>          “The band.” Ben spoke, Rodrick felt as if his eyes were piercing his skin. “It’s over. We’re done.” Not once did the boy's voice fail him. There was no stutter, no sign of it being a joke. God, Rodrick wished it was. He wished it had all been one sick and twisted joke.</p><p>          A chuckle escaped his lips, a lump forming in his throat. <em> Over </em>? The word echoed over and over again in his brain as he effortlessly sat down on the old drum stool. </p><p>          “Look,” Chris shook his head. “It’s not like the bands going anywhere. Fuck, man, we’ve never even been booked. Face it, we’re <em> dogshit </em>, Heffley!”</p><p>          Silence encased them, the thin framed drummer could not bring himself to say something. His brain was racing a mile a minute. What could he say? He knew deep down there was no way he’d be able to convince them to stay. He had noticed their lack of enthusiasm, how they seemed to make up excuses not to come practice. </p><p>          Rodrick just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Because by giving in, he had given his father what he had always wanted.</p><p>         <em> Proof </em>.</p><p>           Proof that Löded Diper was nothing but a failure. That he had wasted his schooling doing nothing but hitting drums in his basement, smudging makeup across his face and not making an effort to do anything in his good for nothing life. </p><p>          This was living proof that Rodrick Heffley was nothing but a failure.</p><p>          So, when his ex-band mates walked out of his garage, the door shutting behind them, the drummer sat in silence. His mind racing, his hands shaking. Rodrick could not help his blurred vision from the tears that formed, each one threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes at any given second.</p><p>           One minute later, there was a snap from his drumsticks. Splinters entering the space around him just before he threw them across the room. They were <em> dead </em> to him anyway.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>        For the whole of senior year, all Maya could think about was how her and her friends were going to college together. The ragtag team of four had been friends since childhood. They had grown up in close neighbourhoods, spent weekends at each other’s houses. Hell, even each of their parents had considered every last one of them a part of the family. </p><p>          Until they weren’t. </p><p>          Maya had always told herself to never give into the fairy tale trope of being friends forever. She couldn’t count the number of times she had looked herself in the eyes in her slightly blurry bathroom mirror on two hands.</p><p>           Never hold too much hope, because one day it’ll break your heart.</p><p>          And by God did she wish that she had listened to her own advice. Maya was always one to give advice, but never follow it. In a sense, she was a hypocrite to her own words. Her own thoughts and ideas. Maya Foster felt like she had been going nowhere, except in a downwards spiral, inches to rock bottom. </p><p>          It had taken one slip up. One stupid and insignificant mistake that had sent her spiralling. For the rest of her senior year, each day had gotten worse. No motivation led to her failing grades. But her failing grades led to her lack of enthusiasm for what she cared for, which, in return, left her with even less motivation.</p><p>          She was stuck in a rut with no way out. </p><p>          For months she had felt as if something in her life was wrong. That something wasn’t quite right. Her moods had worsened, she was irritable. Hell, she had once been seen with a bright smile on her face, but now, all which remained were tired eyes and dark circles to match.</p><p>          She had blamed herself really for what had happened. Her lack of socialising, always dragging the mood down in her small friendship group. The bleached blond had started to distance herself from everyone and everything she loved. But, no matter how much her thoughts warned her, teased her about it, Maya had not prepared to actually hear the words fall out of her friends lips.</p><p>          “<em>We don’t want to be around you</em>.”</p><p>          "<em>You're always such a fucking downer, Foster</em>."</p><p>          Maya Foster was left in, what felt like quicksand. However, all she wanted was for it to swallow her up right where she stood. The words had been like venom. The snake had finally struck her and its poison had infused her blood.</p><p>          So, when her eyeliner ran down her face as she stormed the corridors, tears staining black down her pale cheeks, Maya Foster swore to herself she would never grow close to another person.</p><p>          Maya Foster had spent that night tearing photos off of the wall, anything which reminded her of anyone was gone. After all, what was the point of holding onto them if they were <em> dead </em>to her?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Great Escape.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay, so the first few chapters are going to be kinda boring because i want to focus on world building and all.<br/>also, this is definitely an au and is set in like 2018 and stuff; maya and rodrick are both eighteen!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>           Dinner at the Heffley house that night was infused with silence and tension. Tension so thick, you could almost see its aura if you squint hard enough. The silence wasn’t any better. In fact, it <em> hurt </em>. Each and every click and clatter caused a member of the Heffley family to tense. Each accidental scrape on a plate was met by gritted teeth and a quick glare from at least three people at the table. And in the middle of it, Rodrick sat. His head resting in the palm of his left hand, while his right moved the fork which played with the untouched plate of food. </p><p>          What was usually filled with shouts, the boys kicking each other under the table, hell, even jokes had been void for the last few days. No one dared to comment on it. At first, Susan Heffley had made a subtle joke.</p><p>          “I haven’t seen you boys this quiet since you were teething.” The only one to respond was Frank, who had given an uncomfortable chuckle from across the old, oak table before stuffing some potatoes into his mouth. Greg had tried to annoy the eldest Heffley child, from nudging his knee under the table whilst he was eating to aiming a few peas across the table. One had hit the boy near his eye, and the only response Rodrick had given was sliding out from his seat, and marching to his room. He had ignored the calls from his mother and the shouts of annoyance from his father, all of it soon blocked out once he had shut the attic latch. All that was left of Rodrick being at the dinner table had been his basically untouched plate and the chair he had left out of place.</p><p>          So, that night, Susan had sent glare after glare towards her husband in an attempt for him to speak to his moping child. None of the Heffley’s would agree that talking to his children about what was causing them strong emotions was Frank’s forte, but Susan had tried over and over again to get her eldest to speak, only to be met with a grunt or a simple, one word answer.</p><p>          Communication had never been a strong point in the Heffley household. No matter how much their mother said it, the phrase ‘<em> Communication is Key </em> ’ never truly <em> stuck </em>.</p><p>          A heavy sigh caused all but Rodrick to look towards Frank, who was now sitting with his hands clasped together, his gaze landing directly on his eldest child. Tension rising, he cleared his throat. </p><p>          “Rodrick, what is going on with you?” Silence followed as the boy with messy raven hair and a blank stare seemingly racked his brain for an answer. A simple shrug was all he could supply. “Rodrick.” Frank's voice was stern, slightly louder in tone than he had meant it to be, a flinch ran over the boy's body as he finally lifted his dark eyes away from the food that lay untouched. </p><p>         “Nothing.” Mumbled, the boy leant back in his chair, wishing he was anywhere but there.</p><p>          “It can’t just be nothing, Honey.” Susan’s voice broke in, her attention still only really focused on trying to get Manny to eat the food which he had just been playing with. “You haven’t been yourself all week.”</p><p>          It was true. Even Rodrick couldn’t argue against that. But, he just wanted to ignore it. What he was going through, he would go through it by himself. He always had, he wasn’t about to start oversharing his emotions with anyone, let alone his damn family.</p><p>          “I’m <em> fine </em>.” He spat out, getting ready to leave the table. He wasn’t in the mood anyway. He knew his mother would save his food for later, he’d just heat it up again when he wanted it. “I’m not hungry.”</p><p>          A hand crashing onto the table took him and the others by surprise, all of them turning to look at Frank. His face was stern, his gaze burnt holes into Rodrick as he waited for his son to sit back down. “No, Rodrick. What on <em> Earth </em>is wrong with you?”</p><p>          “What’s wrong with me?” He questioned, words catching in his throat as he tried not to raise his voice. “Nothings <em> wrong </em> with me!” His voice was loud, although slightly shaky. Perhaps a laugh would sustain his family's questions. After all, every time he played it off as a joke they left him alone. </p><p>          “Well something’s up with you!” The elder of the household yelled back, his eyes still trailing his son who was trying so desperately to escape the interrogation. “You’ve been in your room more than normal, you and Greg haven’t argued which, I think, is a miracle. Hell, I haven’t heard that God awful music coming from the basement!”</p><p> </p><p>           That <em> stung </em>. </p><p> </p><p>           Squirming in his seat, Rodrick mumbled under his breath. “<em> Fuck you </em>.” It was quiet, no one had heard him, but they had at least noticed his tense body language at the mention of something he had once held so dear to him. </p><p> </p><p>           Music. The <em> God awful </em> music.</p><p> </p><p>           “Oh,” His father's eyes widened once he had connected the dots, he could not help the smirk that appeared in his lips. “Oh, I get it.” A chuckle. He was laughing.</p><p>            His own father was <em> laughing </em> at <em> him </em>. </p><p>           “The band split, is that what you wanted to hear?” The words fell from Rodrick’s lips, he had attempted to stop them but he couldn’t. They had been stuck in his throat, crawling their way up. They wanted to escape, and they had. He could see them now, fumbling around on the table, making a mess in his already messy life. “That’s why you can’t hear my God awful music, but I don’t think you really care do you?”</p><p>          The sound of wood scraping against wood filled the air as the raven haired boy attempted to escape the tension. It was getting too much for him. His hearing was muffled as he quickly moved towards the front door, trying his best to ignore the calls for him to stop coming from behind him. His converse hit the floor as he practically skidded to a halt, his dark eyes scanning for his jacket and his keys. </p><p>          For once, he was thankful that his mother made him leave them at the front door. The boy couldn’t imagine what he would have felt if he had just persisted and ran them to his room. </p><p>          As his hand snaked around his jacket, a hand snaked around his arm. His father's eyes, despite being the lightest blue, seemed dark. Without saying a word, the boy pulled his arm away and exited the Heffley household, the door slamming behind him.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>          Across town, the Fosters were once again arguing. It had become routine at this point. Someone would mention one little thing, a lecture would start and the night would end in an argument which, more often than not, caused tears for at least one of the members. Every other night it seemed to happen, and Maya Foster was sick of it.</p><p>          She was sick of hearing the same lecture, the same, <em>stupid</em> comments. Hell, all the blond haired girl wanted was to escape, even if it was for a few hours. It was a shame that her usual escape to her bedroom hardly worked anymore. Not after her older sister had disturbed the solitude by returning home for summer.</p><p>          Why hadn’t she just gone to visit her grandparents? The one year Maya wished for her not to come home was the year she decided that it would be nice to see everyone. Typical.</p><p>          The small, three bedroom home had started to feel more and more claustrophobic as each day passed. It was getting harder to breath almost as she would walk the small, marigold corridors at night. Her eyes would gaze upon the family photos which trailed the walls, sometimes, she would stop at certain ones, her eyes tearing up as she recalled the memory it held. </p><p>          She missed being a child. She had no responsibility then. No one to prove herself to. If she had a problem, her parents could have fixed it there and then. They would have dropped everything to help their children. They always had. That was one thing Maya loved about her parents.</p><p>          But, as she got older, and a few of her grades started to drop, not to mention her abandoning her interests that she loved the most, things started to change. Although Maya blamed herself for how much she had started to distance herself, she couldn’t help but feel <em>angry</em>. She was angry at her parents for not caring about why. No one ever did.</p><p> </p><p>         No one wanted to know <em>why</em>, so Maya never spoke about it.</p><p> </p><p>         There she sat, her arms folded over her chest as she tugged on the old, woollen friendship bracelet which had been tied to her wrist for what seemed to be the last three years. The pinks and purples had faded, the colours darkened due to how much she had worn it. But, no matter how old and dirty it got, she refused to take it off. </p><p>          Her feet were planted on the old, carpeted floor as she listened to her parents argue in front of each other. Although they were arguing with one another, the topic was always about Maya. It was something she had gotten used to, but each and every time, but the end of it, no one had ever taken her side.</p><p>         “She can’t just lay around all day!” Her father shouted, his dark, brown eyes switching between his wife and his daughter. “All she ever does is stay up in her room, she’s gonna waste her life away up there!”</p><p>           “You don’t think <em>I</em> don’t know that?” Her mother spat back, throwing her hands up into the air before running them through her mousy brown locks. “Christ sake, <em>Charlie</em>, what do you think I’ve been trying to tell her! How many times have I told her that since she decided to forget about going to college?”</p><p>          And there it was. The word she had been waiting for all night.</p><p> </p><p>          <em>College</em>.</p><p> </p><p>          All she had told her parents was that she did not want to go. It didn’t appeal to her anymore. There were other reasons, but they would never take her seriously if she told them. So, she settled for the shitty idea that she just didn’t want to go. She would be the first Foster in years to not attend. And, for some reason, she wanted to hold onto that title. </p><p>         Rolling her eyes, the blue shimmering under the warm lighting of the living room. Gently throwing her head back, a sigh escaped her mouth as she closed her eyes. God, could they just <em> shut up </em>?</p><p>          Twirling the old bracelet around her wrist, she cast her gaze back towards her parents, and then towards the door. Perhaps she could make it? They seemed distracted enough. It was a short jog if she moved quick enough, then, it was just up the stairs and into her now shared room. She knew her brother would be in there, but he wouldn’t say anything. He never did. Theo had always been her favourite in that perspective. Grace would almost always say something. </p><p>           “Maya, are you even listening?” The voice of her mother interrupted her thoughts, causing her to jolt up from the position she had been sitting in. The quick movement hurt her neck, but the glares from her parents hurt her the most.</p><p>          She felt as if they were burning into her skin, reading every thought she had ever had. And, in a weird way, it frightened her. The blond knew that there was no way in which they would ever know what she was thinking, but the sheer idea caused her to fidget, her hands felt clammy as she tried to keep a straight face.</p><p>          “Of course she isn’t, Liv! She never does.”</p><p>           “<em>Hey</em>!” Her voice came as a shock to even her. “That, that's not <em>fair</em>!” Frowning, the teen stood up, her arms still folded across her chest. “If I bitched about you to your faces you’d give me Hell, why is it any different if you do it to me!”</p><p>            “Don’t use that language with me, Maya.” Her father extended a finger at her, his eyes not leaving hers. “Why don’t you actually do something with your life, huh? All you ever do is hide up in your room, wasting your life away smoking that shit! When are you going to realise you’re going to ruin everything in your life!”</p><p>          “All this because I said I didn’t want to go to college?” She fired back, her voice rising, but the volume couldn’t mask how it cracked. “What’s wrong in that? College isn’t for everyone!”</p><p>           “I don’t want you to end up as a <em>disappointment</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>           That <em>stung</em>.</p><p> </p><p>           Maya was sure that was the moment she felt her heart shatter. It was the final blow. For a while, she felt as if it was being held together with string, just barely holding together. For a split second, her face dropped. Her facade disappeared and a feeble, upset girl stood in her place. But, as quickly as she appeared, she went away. In Maya’s mind, that was the last straw.</p><p>           “Right, okay then.” Her voice was soft as she shook her head, a chuckle escaped her lips. Turning away she walked towards the stairs, getting ready to lock herself away for just enough time. “If that’s what you think, by all means, carry on. But I’m done.” She spat out as she quickened her pace, hearing muttering from her parents, before calls. But she had already made it up the stairs, her brother's room just in view.</p><p>           Stumbling in, she could see Theo jump as the door slammed, his headphones falling from his ears as he spotted his sister who, quite obviously, was not okay. Chewing the inside of her mouth, Maya took to her bag which sat next to her blow up mattress in the far corner of the room, her jacket lay lazily over the top of it.</p><p>           “What’s up?” The young boy's voice interrupted her messy thoughts, her eyes glassy as she turned towards the younger, but only by a few minutes, of the two who was putting his laptop down, getting ready to come over to check on her. A sweet sentiment, but it was the last thing she needed. </p><p>          “I, I’m going out for a while.” She stuttered out, shrugging on her coat before checking to see if she had everything she needed in her bag and pockets. “They’ll try and stop me, so I’m hoping out the window. Just, just leave it open a little for me.” A weak smile crossed her chapped lips as she made her way towards the large window, her heart racing as she spotted the light rain which had started to fall. </p><p>          Crossing the room, Theo stopped in front of his sister. Despite the pair being twins, and Maya being the elder of the pair, none of it matter as soon as the boy grew taller than her by the age of fourteen. He towered over her, his blue eyes matched her perfectly. In a way, they they were identical, even acted as such. After all, they were twins, it was obvious and they never made it a secret. They had always understood each other in a way no one could grasp. </p><p>          “Be <em>safe</em>.” He spoke gently as he wrapped the girl in a hug. Her tears now threatened to spill, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she nestled into his chest and attempted to match his breathing. Deep, slow breaths. It worked slightly. “Text me when you’re on your way back, I’ll let you in.” Pulling apart, the girl gave a nod as she finally clambered out of the open window. At first, her shoes slipped, but, after a few seconds, her muscle memory kicked in.</p><p>          The rain hit her face as she manoeuvred across the garage roof. She had done it countless times, it was a quick walk and a simple jump and soon, her feet touched solid ground. Looking up once again, she spotted her brother in the window. With a final salute, she turned and walked away, heading in no particular direction.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Under the Streetlights.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>          It wasn’t dark out. Oh, how Maya wished it had been. Instead, Plainview was shrouded in a grey, misty hue as rain fell all around her. It fell hard and erratically. Her denim jacket was now sticking uncomfortably to her skin, the dark blue even darker as it contrasted against the many bright patches and buttons which covered the material.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Hugging herself with one arm, she attempted to keep her now damp cigarette from dying as she waded through puddle after puddle, hoping to find </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere </span>
  </em>
  <span>that would offer her shelter. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but from the number of songs that had played through her headphones, she could only imagine that it had been around thirty minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          And in that thirty minutes, Maya was practically soaked head to toe, cursing at herself for not bringing something to cover her head. The makeup on her face had now started to fall down her cheeks, black lines from her eyeliner and dark circles from the mascara made it seem as if she had been crying. In a way, she had shed a tear or two, but it was primary from he wind and the rain that had haunted Plainview for the last week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          A sigh of frustration escaped her lips as she threw the wet cigarette into her bag. It was dead and she wouldn’t be able to save it. Well, not in this weather. It may have been salvageable if she were near her home or source of heat, but she knew deep down the next time she went to collect it, it would be in many pieces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          Life really </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> sucked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>           And if it seemed as if it couldn’t get any worse for Maya Foster, life had a shock for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           Thunder cracked from above her, the sound aching through her bones as she stumbled. Even her headphones hadn’t blocked out the noise. There had been no lighting, and the weather sure as hell had not given it in its forecast. If there was one thing Maya did not want, it was to be caught up in a thunderstorm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           The skies had gotten darker, the clouds seemed to be turning black as the girl sped up, hoping to find some shelter. She was too far from home, not to mention the emotions she still had running through her veins. She did not want to talk to her parents and end up in another lecture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           The orange glow of the street lights above her made everything seem grey, her shadow growing taller each time she passed under one. It made her think back to every time she had watched them while in a moving car. It was an odd habit she had, but whenever her family had gone on a long road trip, her tired eyes would always fall on the exaggerated shadows that the streetlights would cast. Her head resting against the window, her music playing softly, her eyes closed. It was all she really wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          The janky sound of a car's engine shocked her out of her thoughts, but her movements were too slow. Dirty, freezing water fell around her, drenching her once again from head to toe. It had started to sink into her clothes as she watched the inhabitants call out from the windows. Their laughter made her <em>sick</em>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>            “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuckers</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She screamed as she raised her middle finger, her eyes burning daggers into the dark car. God, she fucking hated this town. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Continuing on, Maya could feel her socks squelching in her now brown converse. The more she walked, the more uncomfortable she felt. She felt as if she couldn’t battle the cold sensation no matter how tightly she hugged herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “Honestly, Maya, what is the point anymore?” She spoke to herself in a mumbled, hush tone. The Tears threatened to spill again. What was the point in holding them back anymore? It wasn’t as if it would make a difference. No one would know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          With a quivering lip, she looked up at the sky, biting the inside of her cheek as she felt the tears start to fall. Her body started to shake as she squeezed her eyes shut, the warm tears felt weird against her freezing cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Through the sound of the rain and her own headphones, the sound of muffled, yet loud music entered her ears. As it grew closer, the sound of a sputtering engine also caught her attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Just ignore it. She thought to herself as she moved towards the bus stop, hoping she could get out of the rain for a few minutes. The white van approached her, its headlights blinding her slightly as it pulled over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” The boy called from inside once he had rolled down the squeaky window. Maya couldn’t make out much of his features, but his raggedy black hair stood out. Not to mention the words on the side of the van. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          This night only got </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “Are you alright?” Rodrick called from the drivers side, his eyes glued to the teenage girl who sat soaked in the bus stop. He couldn’t help but notice her as he drove. Even he wouldn’t be caught out in the rain like this, no matter how quickly he had wanted to escape his house that night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “What do you want?” She called, her voice broke softly as she looked away, wiping her cheeks with her jacket sleeves. A frown curved onto Rodrick’s lips as his heart raced as he watched the girl. She obviously wasn’t okay. Hell, he knew the feeling all too well. No more than thirty minutes ago, he had to pull over to stop his own tears from falling down his cheeks. He was sure his eyes were still a little red and puffy, but being surrounded by darkness and only streetlights, he thanked his lucky stars the girl couldn’t see it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          The girl who sat before him kept a low stare, almost watching him to make sure he didn’t pull any stunt. He couldn’t blame her really. He would be as equally freaked if someone in a white van pulled up next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Rodrick mumbled as he ran a hand through his dark hair, his dark eyes studying her movements. “Do you, uh, want a ride?” The blond tilted her head as he purposed the question instantly causing the boy to backtrack his words. “I just, just mean I saw those asshole’s splash you and, you know, it’s cold and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna get heavier,” The boy hadn’t noticed he had been rambling until he met the girls eyes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you want a ride to literally anywhere? I’ve got time to kill.” Rodrick’s lips curved as he focused his attention on the girl, his hands resting lazily on the steering wheel, his head resting atop of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Under the streetlights, Rodrick saw the blond girl’s lip twitch up into a smile. “Oh, what the hell.” She mumbled under her breath as she nodded. “If it’s no trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “Hop in.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          Rodrick tapped along to the beat of the song which he had blasting through his speakers, the volume loud enough to jam out to, but not loud enough to form complaints from the residents of Plainview. Next to him, Maya nodded along, thanking her lucky stars as the warm air from the heaters hit her skin. Her damp denim jacket currently hung in the back of the car on one of the wall mounts Rodrick had installed a year or two ago in a last ditch effort to make the van a more presentable place. But also for his own peace of mind, he couldn’t take another lecture from his mother about how dirty and dangerous it had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “You know,” The blond started, titling her head over to her driver. His lips were pursed as he concentrated on the wet roads, his fingers still drumming on the leather wheel. “I didn’t expect to seem so cosy, Rodrick.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>           He paused. She knew his name? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>           Rodrick wasn’t too sure why he was surprised. After all, they were in the same grade, they probably knew each other years back but just never interacted. After all, he knew who she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          Once the girl had hopped into the car, the brown eyed boy instantly knew her face. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t noticed before. Maya Foster was not someone you could forget that easily. Or at least, she wasn’t to Rodrick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          He remembered sitting behind her in Art a few years back. He had been mesmerised by how elegantly she moved the pencil or brush across the page. Yet, her work was odd. It wasn’t stereotypical. In fact, it was almost abstract. And Rodrick had loved every part of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “What? Cat got you’re tongue?” He hadn’t noticed he had been sat with his mouth open, trying to speak yet nothing had escaped. He looked like an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>         “Sorry, didn’t expect you to recognise the van.” A nervous chuckle followed as he sent a glance towards the girl who had been flicking through his CD case, studying the custom mixes he had made.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          Maya had seen the van around school. How could she have not noticed it? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>          From its loud and irritating exhaust, to the bold, black painted lettering on the side. The van in itself was a character. Much like its owner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “Please, it’s hard to miss.” She laughed, placing the case back in the glove compartment. “Haven’t updated to an AUX yet?” She questioned, resting her head on the seat, it lazy flopped to face the boy, the street lights occasionally illuminating her soft features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “We’ve known each other for what? Fifteen minutes and you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>already </span>
  </em>
  <span>calling me poor?” A smirk curved onto Rodrick’s lips as he turned to look at the girl, their eyes meeting for a second before he moved them back to the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “No,” Maya started, sitting up a little. “I think the CD thing is cute, just wondering if you’ve got other music.” Shrugging, the girl pulled out her phone. Once the screen lit up, she was met by a missed call from her mother and a couple of texts from her brother. They didn’t say much, just telling her to be careful and, if she just so happened to pick up some food, for her to bring him something back. She let out a chuckle as she sent a quick response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           “Something funny?” She hadn’t noticed, but Rodrick, although still looking out the window, was leaning closer to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>            “We’ve known each other fifteen minutes and you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>already </span>
  </em>
  <span>trying to snoop on my messages?” The pair laughed, smiling at one another. As the two sat in peaceful silence, neither could comprehend how that night had started so miserably and yet, meeting an almost complete stranger had lightened their moods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “Hey, I know you’re the one driving and all, but do you want to get some food?” Maya piped up quickly, reaching for her bag which sat at her feet. “I’ve got money, I’ll pay for whatever since you’re practically like a taxi service tonight.” She smiled at him, a wide, toothy grin as she pulled out her purse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           “Maya, you don’t need to pay for me.” He answered, attempting to reach into his pocket which was a very uncomfortable position. A hand rested on his shoulder causing him to stop, looking to his right he saw Maya, a smile still painted on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          “My treat.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>rodrick and maya have only just 'met' and honestly??? how can i love them so much already when i'm the one writing this</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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